Face
by anexistence
Summary: She sees him, and that's enough.
1. heads

James Potter had exactly seven noticeable freckles on his face, and an infinity of those smaller barely noticeable ones that would appear during July and last until October. Lily could count the seven and would try noticing the infinity but somehow she always ended up being interrupted by his lips. She'd sigh into the kiss and wrap her arms around James' neck. Sometimes, quite often, her hands would end up in his unruly, dark hair. When they first kissed she had been so eager that she ended up clashing their teeth together. The damage wasn't noticeable but James' front tooth had been slightly chipped ever since that moment. He couldn't complain.

He was a child still, well on his way into adulthood but not grown up yet. She could see it in the way the creases around his eyes would instantly smooth out when he'd stop laughing. It was visible in the still defining jawline and the lack of scruffiness in his cheeks. Besides, there was something inherently youthful and childlike, mischievous in fact, about the tiny dimples that would etch themselves into the creases of his lips and cheeks when he would laugh. Lily loved them.

Sometimes, when they would study till early morning hours in the Gryffindor common room she would gaze at him from her spot on the sofa. There was something mature about him at those moments. Perhaps the way his eyebrows furrowed while reading the Arithmancy notes, or the way his lips would slightly part as he understood the solution to the problem. If he had a particularly hard task at hand he would lightly hold his tongue between his teeth, lips parted, while writing out the solution. Quite surprisingly they did manage to get a lot of studying done when left alone, a feat no one thought would be possible.

He had disgustingly long eyelashes, Lily had proclaimed it one evening as they were playing chess. James only ever said that they are useful when playing Quidditch. Lily wanted to put some mascara on them, just as an experiment, to see how far they would go with enhancement. She almost succeeded one time. But at the last moment the boy whose eyelashes were in question managed to dodge her and ended up with a black smear right on his nose. Lily said he had it coming, changing his mind in the last moment like that.

James Potter's nose was an almost perfectly straight, manly nose. That's what he said either way. Lily didn't really think much about the words and the logistics of explaining his nose. She would just sometimes trace the tip of her finger lightly over his eyebrows and down the bridge of it until it rested just above his lips.

James Potter's lips.

She would trace them with her fingers most often. They were chapped almost constantly because he refused to use the balm she so stubbornly offered him. The only time he'd take the balm was if he was stealing it off her lips. Although chapped, they were perfect. That's what Lily Evans would claim anyway.

His lips were perfect for tracing, perfect for kissing, perfect for fitting in the crook of her neck as his teeth softly bit down on the tender skin.

They sent magical chills down her spine.

* * *

 _A/N: Hope you like this, part two (also the ending part) will be coming soon. Stay tuned._

 _Love,_

 _Maja_


	2. tails

James Potter's hair was an aggravating mess. It stood on the very top of his overinflated head and was probably the place of residence of his even more inflated ego. His hair wasn't particularly long. It was much shorter than Sirius', and yet Sirius managed to look neat and clean whereas James perpetually looked as if his family couldn't afford a comb.

Lily Evans sometimes found herself glaring at the messy back of his head during Transfiguration, which was incidentally the only class in which James Potter sat in the very first row and thus in front of Lily Evans. The back of his head never looked quite the same, there was always that one new unruly strand of hair, a new patter of messiness. Over time she could clearly tell which side he had spent more time sleeping on that night.

Sometimes, when he seemed sleepier than usual, he would yawn, stretch, and run his left hand through his hair. Not just the top of it, the whole wild mop, thus making it even messier. Unbeknownst to the red haired girl James Potter could sometimes sense her glaring daggers which prompted him to mess his hair up a bit more. It was a fun game.

He would smile at her sometimes, when he'd presume that he had caught her staring (which she wasn't, she was clearly glaring) at him across the hallway or from across the Great Hall, sometimes in the common room. He would smile, wide and playful, as if suggesting that she did it on purpose. As if she could control her gaze while thinking about her Potions essay. If she could control it she wouldn't have been staring at the mess on top of his head, or his general direction, or his handsome face. She would knowingly force herself to look anywhere but his direction, which spoke volumes of her apparent denial, a fact she would never admit to. Or she'd take some time admitting it, that is.

James Potter smiles at her and she looks away. His smile is crooked, his teeth are straight enough but not as white as some other boys'. There is a small scar above his upper lip, on the left side of his cupid's bow. He supposedly earned that on a midnight escapade with his friends, that's what James claimed. Lily saw when he ran into a closed door while attempting to look cool. She knew better than the girls that swooned over that scar. The scar that was most definitely not charming.

And when he was teasing her, close enough for his breath to reach her face—how did he always smell like fresh peppermint?—she could see his eyes. Deep, dark pools of amber and chestnut swirls. The glint in them hidden behind those horribly long, thick eyelashes made her want to do something, many things. It rendered her immobile, but not speechless. She always had many words for James Potter. Always.

One day she noticed that his face was close, and how was a girl to continue pretending. Even the strongest of resolves must crumble at one point.

He wasn't as annoying as he used to be. That day she got acquainted with James Potter's lips. She drank them in and suddenly his unruly hair wasn't aggravating, not that it ever truly was, it was surprisingly soft for such a mess. And his eyes were closed, eyelashes brushing against his red tinted cheeks.

James Potter's face wasn't perfect.

His smile was crooked, his lip was scarred, his tooth was chipped, and he kept his lips perpetually chapped.

But Lily Evans saw him and that was enough.

And Lily Evans loved him and that was enough.

* * *

 _A/N: That's it, the second chapter (or rather drabble) that ends this short work. The original prompt was to describe a character's face from the pov of a person that loves them and a person that hates them. But I decided to do this as Lily that's aware that she is in love with him, and Lily who is not aware of her attraction. Hope you like it._

 _Love,_

 _Maja_


End file.
